Opinion

Jarlath Kearney: Anto Finnegan's gruelling pilgrimage displays an inspirational motivation

Former Antrim football GAA captain, Anto Finnegan pictured with his wife, Alison and their two friends, Cormac Carmichael and Brendan Elliot. The team are pictured undertaking the Camino Frances to raise awareness of Motor Neurone Disease
Former Antrim football GAA captain, Anto Finnegan pictured with his wife, Alison and their two friends, Cormac Carmichael and Brendan Elliot. The team are pictured undertaking the Camino Frances to raise awareness of Motor Neurone Disease Former Antrim football GAA captain, Anto Finnegan pictured with his wife, Alison and their two friends, Cormac Carmichael and Brendan Elliot. The team are pictured undertaking the Camino Frances to raise awareness of Motor Neurone Disease

Anyone who ever saw Anto Finnegan on the gaelic pitch will remember a tough and tenacious defender, energetically inspiring his team, tackling opponents like a tiger, always leading by example, wearing the Antrim brand of fortitude.

And everyone who read last week’s story in The Irish News saw the same man displaying all the same qualities – and more – in his everyday life.

With the support of his wife Alison, and friends Cormac and Brendan, Anto completed a difficult 90-mile section of the historic pilgrimage trail of Camino de Santiago de Compostela through the Basque Country.

For someone who faces the impact of Motor Neurone Disease, Anto’s wheelchair-bound journey testifies to his personal determination. But what resonated even more was his inspirational motivation:

“We didn’t do sponsorship, we didn’t raise money, we didn’t want to. It was a personal thing for the four of us. For me it was purely, ‘This is something that is going to be a challenge with two of my lifelong friends and my wife’. They pushed the chair the whole way.

“We just wanted it to be something that is really personal to us. If we can use this experience to raise awareness, even just a small bit of awareness along the way, then we have achieved something.”

While it’s clear the seven-day journey along the Camino was gruelling and difficult, there is something golden about the certainty and simplicity of Anto’s motivation. A personal challenge, a journey.

Virtually every family is touched by the impact of life-limiting or life-altering conditions, or irreversible illness or terminal disease. My family was no different. Our parents died from cancer two years apart, having been preceded by long periods of managed treatment and palliative care.

And yet so often the remarkable reality is that when destiny throws such terrible illnesses at people, their human spirits summon the power to react with wondrous heroism. Standing up. Fighting back. Living life. Drinking in every moment and experience. Pouring out endless love and wisdom. And in turn, inspiring the same from others, through care, assistance, support, prayers.

Heroism is an often misused word. Too often it is applied to acts during war, conflict or confrontation. Acts of bravery in such circumstances of danger are more appropriately called valour.

But a hero is actually anyone who ‘is admired for their courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities’. Someone like Anto Finnegan.

And we all meet heroes among our own families and friends every single day whose qualities of courage, achievement and nobility never allow their spirits to surrender to the worst illnesses or disease – even if their bodies ache terribly.

Some people face awful struggles. Maybe their mountain seems too daunting or they have limited support. But alongside that, the clarity of mortality also becomes a liberating moment for many people to fully embrace their temporal lives - notwithstanding the pressures and pain they may be individually experiencing. And in that resilience lies a tremendous well of hope, at both a personal and social level.

We need to better appreciate the strength of that spirit – in the broadest sense – shown by those facing severe illnesses, just as much as we focus on the scientific importance of medicine. Those who arise everyday and face openly into new sunrises - despite painful illness, disease and ailments - are inspirations. They are each heroes.

We must work to find ways that harness some of their wisdom, learning and humanity as we seek to improve society. The technical measures and metrics of science, politics and economics are not enough. We need space to cultivate more of the transformative magic of that heroic spirit.

One of the most cogent and insightful books about transforming illness is the book ‘When I Die’ written by Philip Gould, one of the key strategists behind the professionalised rise of New Labour in the mid-1990s. His underlying philosophy as he faced into a severe terminal illness is profound. It is worth each of us grasping:

“Then you realise – whatever they throw at you, you can deal with it. And that is because your body and your mind have an extraordinary capacity to deal with what is going to come later. It is just an amazing thing. You learn how to cope with these challenges, one after another. There is more in the human body than you will ever understand, more physically, more emotionally, more spiritually, more religiously… You can deal with the pain, you can deal with uncertainty, you can deal with it all. It is possible to deal with it all. Realising that changes you as a person.”